Dancing through Sunday
by spandexmonkey
Summary: The concept of distortion, the displaced nature of self abuse, the warning on this story is that it's written the way someone else would see things.
1. Default: One

I stare at the front of the treadmill determinedly, and move my arm to push the button and up the pace. I feel my legs strain to catch up with the whirling belt beneath me, and I feel the pain and allow it to drive me.  
  
The rhythmic thud of my tightly laced trainers on the treadmills own version of a conveyor belt is beyond hypnotic, it's a noise like no other. I feel my quadriceps and calves protest, and I run more. I reach up to the keypad again, and suddenly have to concentrate on keeping up the pace at the same time. I flick the monitor for distance, and see that I've been running for just over 4 miles. I narrow my eyes. It isn't enough.  
  
The display screen goes into random mode. I've been running for 26 minutes and twelve seconds. Not bad. Not good enough, not yet. My arms come up to my sides, as more effort is required to keep up the speed. 320 calories burned. I mentally pause.  
  
320 calories? That's IT? That's all I've managed to achieve? How long have I been running for? I stare in disbelief at the screen, and suddenly feel my legs begin to give out beneath me. I grab hold of the handholds either side of the belt, and move my legs out to where they can stand on solid ground. My head feels... dizzy. I reach one arm up to the control panel and manage to hit stop before I stumble off of the treadmill and grab hold of the nearest training bar to hold myself up.  
  
My heart is racing, pounding in my chest painfully, and my breathing is short and erratic. My legs feel weak, and my head is dizzy enough to fog my vision. I stare down at my shoes. It wasn't enough.  
  
My limbs don't feel as exhausted as they should. Had I truly worked... I feel the familiar frustration building up, and I refuse to let it take over. I have more discipline than that.  
  
/Just not enough to run further/, comments a small voice in the back of my head. 320 calories. I know that the calculator on the machine isn't accurate, and is more than likely very wrong, but only 320? I feel pathetic. /That's because you are pathetic/, I remind myself.  
  
Suddenly, I'm very glad that there are no mirrors in the gym. I must look absolutely pathetic, bent over a support bar, breathing as though I'm at least 40lbs overweight, and unfit to go with it. My knees buckle again, and this time my arm strength isn't enough. I land on the floor with an undignified thud, and immediately lie back for minimal movement, to allow myself to breathe.  
  
Closing my eyes to focus, I see colors of all varieties flitting across my vision. My breathing evens out, and my eyes open again. I narrow them. Something is very wrong with me. I should be so much fitter than this! My body just won't push past its limit, and my mind is too lazy to try. I sit up, violently, suddenly filled with anger at my audacity to lie on the floor and take a rest.  
  
I look around the gymnasium, and spy a weight bench. Ignoring the growing throb against the inside of my skull, I steel my muscles for yet another harsh workout. I refuse to allow myself to leave this gym for another two hours. 


	2. SS ZWEI

Leaving the gymnasium exactly 2 hours and 37 minutes later, I head straight for the kitchen. Walking through the cold steely halls of the Titan Tower, my footsteps echo. Heavy footsteps, I remind myself that they should be lighter. I should be creeping like a cat. I scowl mentally. My training just hasn't been thorough enough.  
  
Stalking through the kitchen, I reach the refrigerator and pull open the door a little more violently than I intended to. The various cartons and bottles lining the inner shelves rattle, and I grab a bottle of plain water and slam the door closed again. I hear the innards of the fridge complaining as they shake.  
  
I twist the lid off the bottle and take a good long swig. The water's freezing, to my mouth and throat, and drinking it gives me goose pimples.  
  
/I don't care/.  
  
I finish the bottle, and wonder whether or not to recycle it. I shrug, and aim it into the middle of the green recycling bin in the corner between the counters. It hits one of the sides, and I scowl.  
  
Turning heel, I once again swallow my frustration and begin to stalk back out of the kitchen, fully intending to go to my sleeping quarters, and take some kind of shower. My muscles ache, and I'm glad. It means I've been working out properly, it means my body must've achieved something, even if it doesn't feel like enough now, I now have a new standard to work to every day in the gym.  
  
With that positive thought in mind, my mood lifts a little. I realize that my mood feels heavy.  
  
Someone else is walking towards me down the corridor. I listen carefully, conscious of the fact that my footfalls have suddenly become lighter. Soft padding, not deliberately sneaky... Beast Boy. Even in his 'human' form, he still retains several animal characteristics. He seems to walk like one, quietly, naturally, and I also know that his eyesight is a lot better than humans in the dark.  
  
I refuse to feel any jealousy for his skills, and instead feel annoyance at my own body for not having achieved such an attainment. /Not your body/, reminds the voice, /your mind. You could achieve so much more than anyone else. You're just LAZY/.  
  
I growl at myself in my head, and school my face into what I hope is a natural expression, as Beast Boy rounds the corner.  
  
The green one appears, dressed in his usual outfit designed for transformation I suppose, and sporting the usual big grin with one tooth (fang) visible.  
  
"Hey Rob," he chirps, by way, I suppose, as a passing greeting.  
  
"Hey Beast Boy," I return, attempting a grin.  
  
He passes, and I can feel the grin on his face emanating as he continues down the corridor. I wonder what people feel when I walk away from them, whether I radiate a big grin, or whether it's something else entirely.  
  
The somewhat forced grin falls slowly from my face, and I round upon the cold, hard, dull block of steel that is my door.  
  
"Robin," I announce dully, de-activating the security system. The door slides open.  
  
This is the only room in the entire tower that I put a password on. It's my room. I like gadgets, I like to make high tech equipment, and I built and programmed the lock function on my door myself just after the Mad Mod incident. I can't stand the thought of anyone getting that far into the Titan Tower again, let alone coming into my room while I lie unable to defend myself in a chemically induced sleep.  
  
My room isn't immaculate, but it is more organized than the majority of the tower. The floor is plain metal, the walls are plain metal. There's a desk, with my laptop and a couple of computer games, and the walls are covered in shelves, which are covered in their own right with various tools, weapons, equipment and gadgets.  
  
I figure since no one's coming in my room, I don't have to put anything away.  
  
There's one wardrobe set against the far wall – a tall cupboard sat on top of a collection of 6 drawers. Most of the drawers are empty save for the occasional piece of junk. The rest of the set contains clothing and other things in that category. I do have some clothes besides what I think of as my uniform. I save them for when I want to go out, and not be recognized.  
  
I pull my shirt off my head, and let it fall onto my neatly made bed. I pull off my mask, and look at it for a minute. My mask.  
  
/It doesn't bear thinking about/, comments a sarcastic voice in the back of my head. I scowl. Pesky voices.  
  
I throw the mask on the bed, and turn away from it in a fluid motion, which prompts a walk into my en suite bathroom.  
  
I decide that today, I'll be having a warm shower. 


	3. Chapter III

'Do do do do do do do!' The bleeper on my tool belt goes off, and I feel my eyes narrow without really thinking about it.  
  
"Titans!" I yell, so that Beast Boy and Cyborg will definitely hear me, "Go!"  
  
Without a word, everyone drops everything, and we run (or fly, in the case of Raven and Starfire) as fast as we can as a group out of the greenery of the park and across the street to the shopping mall.  
  
I see Beast boy transform into a giant cat out of the corner of my eye, as he needs to travel faster to keep up. I keep my senses as alert as possible, and pick up my own pace so that I'm at the head of the group, where I feel I should be.  
  
There's a large crash from the front of the shopping mall, and several screams can be heard. Another crash, and a nasty high pitched giggle is heard from the other side of the broken wall.  
  
"Yeah! This is too easy!" Screeches an arrogant voice that I recognize. I narrow my eyes further, and see Beast Boy beside me again, in his human(ish) form.  
  
"Dude, didn't we..." "...put him in jail?" Raven finishes the sentence for him, as an explosion rips through another section of the wall.  
  
"Gizmo!" Says Cyborg somewhat incredulously. "That little squirt? He's the reason we gave up our afternoon off?"  
  
"Hey!" An indignant cry comes from inside the building, and I realize that said little squirt appears to have been emptying the cash register, and was planning to leave through this particular hole in the wall. He appears, silhouetted at first against the brick dust, still short as he ever was, and carrying a sack almost the same size as himself.  
  
"Get out of the way, snot brains!" A large, mechanical arm suddenly sweeps across the group, sending myself, Beast Boy and Cyborg flying.  
  
"Oh no you don't," announces Starfire, and I see her eyes glowing as I flip backwards, and land on my feet. She growls as she fires six starbolts at him, and I growl myself as the mechanical arm changes direction, and aims for her.  
  
"Azarath, Metrion, Zinthos!" The arm is suddenly surrounded in a black aura, and twists back on itself against its mechanisms.  
  
Gizmo yelps, as he begins to topple backwards, and I realize that he's been sat on some kind of robot with an extending claw. The controls fall out of his hands, and are neatly caught by Cyborg.  
  
"I don't think so, you little geek," he grins, yanking the controls right out of the machine.  
  
"Noo!" Cries Gizmo, as sparks begin to fly. I run forward, and take the opportunity of his distraction to grab him by the arms and pin him, while Cyborg and Ape-Beast Boy kill the robot thing.  
  
I grab the money bag out of his arms, and throw it up towards the girls. Starfire catches it deftly, and flies into the store to, I assume, tidy up a bit and return the money. I pull a pair of cuffs off my belt, and secure the juvenile offenders wrists with a scowl. The sound of police sirens alerts him to the fact that he's not getting away, and he scowls in defeat, his shoulders slumping slightly.  
  
Raven is using her telekinesis to repair parts of the wall, and Cyborg is fully disassembling the robot. Beast Boy appears next to me.  
  
"Get back in jail," he says to Gizmo, tartly. I set my face, and the police van pulls over. Beast Boy opens the back doors, and I throw Gizmo into the van with not much effort. Beast Boy slams the doors shut, tips an imaginary hat to the driver, and grins as he waves Gizmo goodbye. I scowl slightly as the van drives away, and turn to see Starfire and Cyborg are helping Raven repair the building.  
  
"Dude, something wrong?"  
  
I blink. "No, nothing." Beast Boy shrugs, without looking at me, and watches as Raven seals back in the last wall panel.  
  
"Nice job," he says, running forward suddenly, to the rest of the group. The girls float down to the ground.  
  
I scowl, and feel oddly frustrated for some reason. It's almost painful to school my face back into a natural expression, and I force the negative feelings downward.  
  
Raven pulls down her hood. "I think we're done."  
  
"Did we not previously put Gizmo in jail?" Asks Starfire, looking pensive.  
  
"Yeah," replies Cyborg, "I thought so." He rubs his chin, looking mildly annoyed.  
  
"Ah well," adds Beast Boy. "At least he's back there now."  
  
Everyone, for some reason, turns and looks at me. I almost take a step back.  
  
"What?" I could swear that Cyborg and Raven are looking at me strangely. Maybe it's paranoia though, because Beast Boy grins. "So... are we getting back to the picnic, going home, or can we go out today?"  
  
Starfire immediately lights up, and I wonder what she has planned. "May we go shopping for clothes?" She asks, looking hopeful. Ever since her first shopping trip with Raven after they temporarily switched bodies, Starfire seems to have wanted to go again, with more money to buy things, but we haven't actually had any time.  
  
I nearly smile. "Ok, do we need to get changed first?" Cyborg raises an eyebrow. "Well, I don't. But I guess the mall's right here," he knocks on the recently repaired wall, "and you can just buy something if you feel like it."  
  
"Yeah, shopping!" Announces Beast Boy, looking fairly excited. "Uh," he stares around the wall. "Where's the door?"  
  
"This is the east wing," I tell him automatically, "the door's around the front."  
  
He puts his arm behind his head and a sweat drop appears as he grins sheepishly. "I knew that!"  
  
I try not to goggle my eyes as Raven smacks him upside the back of the head. He ducks, grinning, and she smiles a bit back. "So are we going?"  
  
Raven, who hasn't said a word either way about shopping for clothes in the mall, leads the way around to the front entrance near to the parking lot.  
  
We all follow, and I notice that she leaves her hood down, obviously not too keen on being recognized.  
  
"Where are we going first?" Enquires Starfire, obviously getting excited about the coming experience.  
  
"Clothes," announces Raven. I blink. I suppose Raven is a girl. "Yay!" Exclaims Star. I grin slightly. "Clothes sound good," I decide.  
  
"Uhh... we don't really need clothes," says Beast Boy, speaking for himself and Cyborg. "Can we go elsewhere, and meet up with you guys for lunch maybe?"  
  
I don't answer for a minute, and then realize that he's directing the question at me. "Uh, yeah, sure!" I reply, automatically making my voice sound chirpy.  
  
"Well O.K. then!" Says Cyborg, rubbing his hands together. He and Beast Boy depart through the doors, discussing no one knows what as they head towards the elevator.  
  
"Shopping!" Cries Starfire joyfully, clasping her hands at her chest. I grin again; I like to see Starfire happy. It seems to be how nature intended her, and when she's happy, she sort of radiates. It makes me smile. I wonder if it's an alien thing, then I remember her sister. I grin wider. 


End file.
